


Getting Into Joffrey

by weborgta



Category: Ballet - Fandom, Fiction - Fandom, Joffrey - Fandom, Romance - Fandom
Genre: #GettingIntoJoffrey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-17 00:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15449232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weborgta/pseuds/weborgta
Summary: I knew there was going to be blood. I knew there was going to be sweat. I knew there was going to be tears. But I didn't know it would be coming from him. When I signed up for ballet at age six I didn't know that this is where I would be today. Doing 100 releves in coupe on pointe for him. This is what I wanted. I wanted to be good enough to get into Joffrey. And if this was the only way, then I was going to have to suffer through it. This is what I wanted, right?He was the head instructors second eldest son. At least it was from him, and not Nate. Nate would have killed me. Sam only works me to near death. Yep, that's his name. Samuel Heck. He is 20 years old. He has brown hair. He has blue eyes. My name is Grace West and I'm 18 years old. I have blonde hair and blue eyes. I have had a crush on Sam since I began private lessons with him, about two months now. We are both ballet dancer. One of us has gotten into Joffrey and one of us hasn't. One of us is teaching and one of us is learning. On of us is laying on the floor breathing heavily and dripping sweat and one of us is standing over the other with a wicked smile.





	Getting Into Joffrey

“And up and up and up and up!”  
I knew there was going to be blood. I knew there was going to be sweat. I knew there was going to be tears. But I didn’t know it would be coming from him. When I signed up for ballet at age six I didn’t know that this is where I would be today. Doing 100 releves in coupe on pointe for him. This is what I wanted. I wanted to be good enough to get into Joffrey. And if this was the only way, then I was going to have to suffer through it. This is what I wanted, right? He was the head instructors second eldest son. At least it was from him, and not Nate. Nate would have killed me. Sam only works me to near death. Yep, that's his name. Samuel Heck. He is 20 years old. He has brown hair. He has blue eyes. My name is Grace West and I’m 18 years old. I have blonde hair and blue eyes. I have had a crush on Sam since I began private lessons with him, about two months now. We are both ballet dancer. One of us has gotten into Joffrey and one of us hasn't. One of us is teaching and one of us is learning. On of us is laying on the floor breathing heavily and dripping sweat and one of us is standing over the other with a wicked smile.  
“Come on Grace, it wasn’t that bad.”  
“You,’ I say between heavy breathes, ‘you have not been working all day.”  
“Yes I have.”  
“Oh really?” I say as I sit up.  
“Yep. I have been thinking of a way for you to get into Joffrey because at this rate honey, you are not getting in. I can guarantee you that right now.”  
“Don’t call me honey.” I say as I push myself up off the sticky floor.  
“Whatever you say, darling.” I grunt and give him the stink eye while he smiles wickedly back at me.  
“So what do you want me to do next, Old Wise One?” I say as I stalk over to him and look him right in the eye.  
“Turns.”  
“Turns? My turns are fine.”  
“No,’ he says as he shakes his head ‘no they are not.”  
“What’s wrong with my turns?” I say exasperated with a quizzical look on my face.  
“Everything my dear, come on, center of the floor.” He says as he walks to the center floor.  
“Ugh!” I grown as I stalk over. I have been up since 5:00 in the morning and got to the studio around 7:00. I have been “dancing” (more like working out), for almost nine hours. I am tired. I am sore. I want to go home.  
“Ok, go triple pirouettes across the floor.”  
I gawk at him,“Trip-Triple pirouettes? I can barely do a double!” I say in shock.  
“You want to get into Joffrey don’t you?” he asks.  
“Well yes. Yes.” I say confidently.  
“Well come on then, triples.” I prep into fifth position, plie out to the side, and start into my pirouette. Sam stops me mid turn.  
“Stop, stop, stop, your doing it wrong.”  
“What?” I ask.  
“You need to have a deeper plie so you have more momentum to turn. This isn’t just a single pirouette, it’s a triple. Three in a row. Try again.” Again I prep into fifth position, do a deeper plie out to the side, and start into my pirouette. Sam stops me again.  
“Ok that’s better, now you need to spot better.” Once again I prep and start my pirouette. Again Sam stops me.”  
“What now?” I say.  
“Your still not spotting fully. You need to whip your head around. Here let me try something.” He stands behind me and carefully takes my bun out of my hair so its just in a ponytail.  
“Now when you turn, I want to see your hair wack you in the face.”  
“Ok.” I say and I go up into my pirouettes again. He lets me do a few but I can only do one and a half and if I’m lucky two, never three.  
“Grace you look like a hula dancer. Stop moving your waist and shaking your hips so much. Your core needs to stay still.” I continue to spin but I still can’t get it.  
“Here,’ he says. He comes up behind me and holds my waist. I suck in a quick, small, sharp breath at his hands on my waist.  
“Now go again, but I’m going to be holding on to you to try to get you to stop wobbling so much.”  
“Ok.” I say in a small whisper still in shock at his hands on my hips.  
For a dancer of my age, you might assume I would have danced with many partners, unfortunately, I have not. As a matter of fact, I haven’t even had a boyfriend. The closet thing I have to a boyfriend is my gay friend who gives me hugs, but that's it. So of course I was a little shocked when Sam held my hips like it was no big deal. For him it probably wasn’t, but for me it definitely was.  
I start into my pirouettes with Sam holding my hips, slowly he lets go.  
“Ok Grace, your doing doubles and I need triples. Come on, I know you got it in you.”  
“Ugh Sam,’ I say still doing doubles, ‘I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough.”  
“Yes, you are. You need to believe in yourself. I believe that you can.”  
He believes in me. Come on Grace, you need to believe in yourself. You can do this.  
I glide deep into a plie, spot, and pull my legs up together and then I close my eyes.  
I can do this. I can do it. I don’t know how much time passed. I wasn’t counting. I just lost myself in the space of it.  
I feel my feet land. I hear clapping. I slowly open my eyes to look at Sam smiling and clapping.  
“See, I knew you could do it.” he says with confidence.  
“I, I did it? I did a triple?” I ask.  
“Yes, you did. But we can not end here. You need a lot more work if your going to get into Joffrey. Here, let's sit.” He says as he motions to the floor. I sit down on the sweat covered floor and he sits across from me.  
“Ok Grace, auditions for Joffrey are in three months, that's about 13 weeks away. We meet on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays for about ten hours a week. I don’t think that's enough.”  
“That's not enough for you?” I pant.  
“No, not for me, for you. I have a practice room in my basement if your available I am willing to help you practice.”  
“Really? More practice? You have no idea how much…” Sam cuts me off.  
“Yes Grace, yes, I do have an idea. I was in your place two years ago. I had to do all the stuff your doing. I had to go through all the blood, all the sweat, all the tears to get where I am today and you are going to have to too. Now I am offering to help you even more, please, I want to help you succeed.”  
“What about your parents and brothers? What are they going to think? Are they going to be ok with me using your basement to practice?”  
“They will never know. My parents are on a two month cruise in the Carabine, Adam spends most of his free time with his fiance, Nate is off at college, and Joe is in Fort Wayne. The house is practically mine for the summer. And if they do find out, what's the big deal?”  
“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, what about your free time? Or your girlfriend?” I ask.  
“I have nothing better to do this summer. Trust me. I would just be sitting in my house all alone this summer doing nothing. I want to do this. And for the record darling, I don’t have a girlfriend.”  
I stand up suddenly.  
“I told you not to call me that.” I grunt.  
“I know,’ he says as he stands up to meet me, ‘it's just more fun for me.”  
“Ugh.” I grown as I head for the door.  
“Hey, wait up,’ Sam calls to me, ‘Where do you think your going?”  
“Home,’ I say as I turn around to look at him ‘it's 5:00.” I don’t wait for his response. I walk out the doors of the practice room and into the hallway to get my clothes so I can change in the bathroom. When I get done changing and go back out into the hallway to grab my bag, water bottle and phone, I see a slip of paper near my phone. It's a phone number. I flip it over. It reads, See you around sweetie - Sam.  
Of course he had to write sweetie! Ugh, he can really tick me off.  
I put my water bottle in my bag and put my phone and the slip of paper in the pocket of my jean shorts as I step outside into the warm, humid summer night. The streets and sidewalks are alive with the buzz of people. For a Thursday, downtown Elkhorn is pretty busy. I look up at the sky. It looks dark.  
Hopefully it won’t rain.  
I start my long walk home. About a quarter of the way home it starts to rain. Soon my hair is wet, my clothes are wet, and I’m cold.  
I should have brought my umbrella with me.  
I continue to walk, but it soon starts to downpour. I run for cover under the awning of an old abandoned building. I pull out my phone and think of someone to call who can come pick me up. My parents are not an option, as they are in Chicago. My sister is in Hawaii with her boyfriend.  
I try calling some of my friends but none of them pick up.  
Should I make a run for it or just wait it out? Then I remember Sam. What if I tried to call him, would he come and give me a ride back to my apartment? No, he's probably home by now making himself dinner. I don’t know how long this rain will last, I could be here all night, I might just have to go for it and run home.  
As if on cue a motorcycle pulls up beside me, the rider takes off his helmet and its Sam.  
“You need a ride?” he asks.  
“I’m fi-fine.” I say between chattering teeth.  
“Really?’ he asks ‘Cuz you don’t look fine. Come on Grace, let me give you a ride.”  
“Fine.” I say as I hop on the back of his bike.  
“You must be freezing, here take my jacket.” He hands me his leather jacket that smells like his cologne. I quickly put it on.  
It's still warm from his body.  
“Where do you live?” he asks  
“Fairfield Heights. Do you know where that is?”  
“Yeah, hold on tight.” he says as he heads off down the street into the pouring rain. I wrap my arms around his torso and hold on tight.  
For my first time on a motorcycle, I’m wishing the weather was a little better, but at least I’m getting a ride home.  
Suddenly the sky lights up with a crack of lightning and the world lets out a low gruble of thunder. I hear Sam cuss softly under his breath. Soon the wind picks up. I am clutching on to his drenched shirt. We are both cold and soaked with rain. I hear Sam yell over his shoulder.  
“It's too dangerous out here to be on a cycle. I’m gonna take you back to my place, it's only a few blocks from here.” I can’t look forward anymore. I can feel my eyes slowly starting to close. I lean my head against his shoulder.  
I don’t feel well. I think I might be sick.  
Soon we pull into a driveway. My eyes are closed.  
I have no strength left in me.  
I feel Sam turn around to look at me.  
“Fuck.” he says. I feel him pick me up and carry me into the house. He walks with me up a set of stairs and into a room. He lays me down on what I think is a bed. I feel the weight of the mattress shift as he sits down next to me. The last thing I remember before I fall asleep is him brushing a few strands of hair away from my face and then I’m out cold...


End file.
